


The Call of A Songbird

by RavenclawAngel



Category: Batman (1966), Batman (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Birds, Campy, Death Traps, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Gotham City - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Mind Control, Original villain - Freeform, Protective Bruce Wayne, Protective Dick Grayson, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:35:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24630904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenclawAngel/pseuds/RavenclawAngel
Summary: There's a new villain in Gotham. He's got a catchy name, a unique theme, and a plot to take over Gotham. Now all he needs is a sidekick, and he's got his sights set on a certain boy wonder.
Relationships: Batman & Robin - Relationship, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 26
Kudos: 75





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on the 1966 Batman TV show as well as the 66 Batman comics. If you are a fan of the TV show I strongly recommend giving the 66 Batman comics a try. They capture the same wacky vibes of the original show. 
> 
> I wrote this mostly because I noticed how on theme everyone in that show is. Catwoman has her cats, The Riddler has his puzzles, Batman has Bat-themed everything...except Robin. (Why not Batboy?) The idea from that realization became this story. Enjoy.

It’ a beautiful day in the fair metropolis of Gotham. The sun is shining and birds are singing. One bird in particular is singing an especially merry tune. A robin. The bird twitters as it hops around its cage. A man in a coat made out of a rainbow of feathers opens it and takes the bird in his hands.

“Lovely,” He murmurs as the bird continues on cheerfully. He passes by a second cage with a blanket covering it. Inside a bat tries to sleep. The man rips off the blanket and sneer at the bat.

“Tell me,” he says to his companion, a slight woman with a feathered dress, “what do bats and robins have in common?”

“Oooh, I know Songbird. They both fly!” She says clapping her hands.

“Bah.” Songbird grunts, “Bats are such filthy creatures. They don’t deserve to share the same skies with birds. No, I’ll tell you what they share; absolutely nothing.”

Songbird sets the robin down and opens the bats cage. He takes out the bat, keeping it at arm’s length, like it’s a particularly disgusting piece of trash.

“I was shocked and appalled to hear about Batman’s sidekick.” He sneers, “Why not Batboy? Why sully the good name of robins by associating it with a bat.”

Songbird shakes his head as he keeps walking. His female companion following closely behind. They leave the comfort of the abandoned pet store they’ve been hiding out in and head to a secluded shed behind the building.

“I’ve been watching that boy though. He’s a credit to the name Robin.” He says thoughtfully, “He’s like a bird in flight every time he fights. And he’s clever too, far more than people give him credit for with that overgrown bat hovering about.”

The woman shrugs a feathery shoulder, “So?”

“So? So, allowing him to remain chained to Batman is a travesty I refuse to abide by.”

He opens the shed door. He stops in front of a giant cage where three eagles the size of men stretch their wings. He stares at them in all their glory for a moment. Sunlight reflects through the window and onto their golden feathers as they cut through the air. He opens the door and throws the bat inside. It flutters for a moment, confused. An eagle swoops down. The bat squeals for only a second, before disappearing into the bird’s giant beak. The man and woman watch the scene unfold with a cold detachment.

“We just have to get rid of the bat and we can help Robin reach his full potential. By my side, where he belongs.” Songbird says, “after all, bats belong in caves, robins do not.”

~*~*~*~

Meanwhile at stately Wayne Manor Bruce Wayne and his youthful ward Dick Grayson are out enjoy the fresh air of the first day of spring. Dick looks through his binoculars. He and Bruce have a yearly competition to see who can catch sight of the first robin of spring. Bruce holds the title two years running, but this year Dick is determined to beat him. He creeps through the bushes, careful not to startle any of the birds who have settled nearby. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Bruce standing perfectly still watching the sky. It’s almost inhuman how still Bruce can stand when the urge takes him. He’s like a one of the many statues that dot the lawn. Dick had tried it once. He had lasted three seconds before his natural urge to always be in motion overtook him.

“There’s a hawk out,” Bruce observes, “This will make things harder as we won’t be able to hear the bird’s distinctive call.”

Dick raises his binoculars to get a better look at the way it cuts through the air. He brings his binoculars back down and scans the trees. He moves on to the next bush and considers making a perch in one of the trees for a better view. Bruce still has not moved.

“There, in that tree to your left,” Bruce says suddenly, springing to life, “the first robin of spring.”

Dick follows Bruce’s gaze until he finds the bright rest breast of a robin partially hidden by a thick canopy of leaves.

“Gosh Bruce,” Dick say, “This is the third year in a row you’ve found a robin first. How are you so good at this?”

“Simple, I have a lot of practice keeping an eye on one particular robin.” Bruce says, “Keeping an eye out for these robins is rather easy in comparison.”

Dick beams at him and they watch the robin flutter away. Bruce follows it with his binoculars as it flies past the manor.

“And speaking of Robin,” Bruce says, “I believe his and Batman’s services are needed.”

“What?”

“Look at the window to the study old chum. Alfred’s on the phone.”

Dick looks through his binoculars at Alfred. The familiar red phone pressed up against his ear and his brows furrowed as he listens to Commissioner Gordon. As one they lower their binoculars and take off at a run towards the manor.

They throw open the door and toss their bird watching gear on the couch. Bounding up the stairs, they take the steps two at a time. Dick waves at his Aunt Harriet as they race past.

“Where are you two boys off too? She calls after them.

“Fishing Aunt Harriet.” Dick says. They enter the study just as Alfred puts down the phone.

“Excellent timing Sir.” Alfred says, stepping away from the phone. Bruce picks up, easily slipping into the calm demeanor of Batman. Dick leans in, but as usual can only pick of faint mumbles on the other line. Easier to make out is the look of worry that appears on Bruce’s face. It lacks the subtle traces of longing that accompanies crimes related to Catwoman. It also lacks the stiff tension that appears in his jaw whenever the Joker is involved. Dick gives a small sigh of relief. The Joker is easily the most dangerous person in Gotham and Dick hates the way seeing Catwoman turn down offers to go straight tears Bruce up inside.

Bruce sets down the phone.

“It seems as though there was some chaos at the Gotham City Zoo this morning old chum, and our presence is needed.”

“Holy Menagerie!” Dick says punching his fist.

“Quickly Robin, to the batpoles.”

Dick slides down the pole feeling the confortable weight of his cape drop over him. He bounds across the batcave and, forgoing the door completely, jumps into the batmobile. Bruce is seconds behind him. The batmobile roars to life and they speed off to Commissioner Gordon’s office.

~*~*~*~

“Oh Batman, I cannot tell you how happy I am to see the two of you striding through my door,” Commissioner Gordon says. He’s sitting behind his desk, resting his head heavily in his hands. Chief O’Hara stands by the window, fidgeting nervously.

“And we are happy to be here. Ready to aid you in our mutual quest for justice in any way possible.” Bruce says with such conviction that Dick can’t help nodding along. Recently, Dick has taken up the habit of trying to mimic Bruce’s powerful mastery of language. Alone in his room, after all the others have turned in for the night, Dick performs in front of the mirror. His practice has yet to yield any positive results.

“Now, tell us what happened.” Bruce says.

“The Gotham City Zoo was burglarized! Over two hundred bird stolen from the tropical bird exhibit. It was horrendous.”

“Holy Bye Bye Birdie!” Dick says, “Who do you think is behind it? The Penguin?”

Bruce strokes his chin, “No, Dick I don’t think so. Although I see the foul fowl connection.”

“I’m afraid there’s a new villain in town Caped Crusaders,” Commissioner Gordon says, “He calls himself Songbird and witnesses reported that he appeared in a giant parrot-copter and led his band of henchmen in purloining the birds.”

“Police tried to arrest them, but they were held at bay by pigeons,” Chief O’Hara adds, “Vicious little birds. Not one of my men escaped without pecking related injuries.”

“It is always tragic when an officer sheds blood in the line of duty,” Bruce says, “Did your men observe anything else that may be useful in tracking them down?”

Chief O’Hara looks thoughtful as he chews his lip, “Well Finnegan overheard one of the henchmen say that this was only their first robbery of the day, but he didn’t hear anything about where the second one would take place. I’m sorry Batman.”

“Do not apologize, any lead is appreciated.” Batman says. He paces, and Dick follows half a step behind.

“Now think Robin, it seems our mysterious new foe has a penchant for plumed pets. What places would pique his interest?”

Dick screws up his face in deep thought. Pet stores? Perhaps, but that seems to be a step down from robbing a zoo. Parks? Doubtful. He’s not even sure if it is a crime to steal birds from a park. Bruce is looking at him expectantly. They all are. They’re waiting for the usual bit of wonder from The Boy Wonder. Dick wracks his brain for any other bird related places. He snaps his fingers.

“I’ve got it!” Dick says, “The Wayne Foundation Aviary. It’s is currently hosting the London Starlings; two dozen starlings all trained to sing Mozart on command.”

“Brilliant Robin, I was thinking the same thing.” Bruce says and Dick beams with pride under his mentor’s praise.

“Quickly, to the batmobile.” Bruce says. They run out. Dick feels the thrill of the chase tingling down his spine. He feels it every time there’s a new case to be solved, another opportunity for justice to be had. It’s a good feeling and in all the years of working side by side with Bruce, it’s never dulled.

Commissioner Gordon and Chief O’Hara watch them rush out with fierce pride.

“Two better men the world has never known.” Commissioner Gordon says.

“Aye and let’s pray that it will be many years before the world will have relearn how to get along without them guarding it.” Chief O’Hara says.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fight gone wrong leaves Dick with an important choice to make.

The batmobile pulls up to the Wayne Foundation Aviary. Bruce and Dick jump out of the car, eyes peeled for any sign of a feather out of place.

“Robin, look!” Bruce says directing his gaze towards bird seed scattered across the ground, “the good people who run this establishment would never leave such a mess behind. We’ve got not a moment to lose.”

Bruce takes off toward the aviary with Dick hot on his heels. As they get closer, Dick can hear the whistle of panicked birds and the grunts of men. Bruce throws open the door. Four men and a woman stand in the middle of the room, all with nets and handfuls of bird seed. Terrified birds flutter through the air.

For a heartbeat everyone is frozen, staring uncertainly at each other. Bruce moves first, racing across the room with his usual agility.

“Get them!” A man shouts. Dick guesses this is Songbird by the way the other men snap to attention. Four against one are standard odds and Dick springs into the fray with confidence. He punches one man in the stomach, deftly dodging the second man attempting to sneak up behind him. Then Dick bounds over to Bruce to rip away the man who has his hands around Bruce’s throat. Bruce gives him a nod of gratitude as he turns and punches a man across the face.

Suddenly Dick’s feet leave the ground as he’s hefted over a henchman’s shoulders. Dick grunts as he gets a faceful of feathers from the man’s jacket. His arms held tightly at his side, Dick kicks out uselessly. He tries to shout as he’s removed from the battle. At the last moment, Bruce comes barreling out of nowhere, grabbing the henchman and ripping Dick away from him.

“Thanks,” Dick murmurs. Bruce squeezes his arm before disappearing back into the fight. Dick turns and delivers two quick punches to another henchman, sending him tumbling over a discarded birdcage.

Out of the corner of his eye Dick notices that Songbird has removed himself from the fight. He situates himself on the outskirts next to his henchwoman, where he can best observe the battle. Songbird’s eyes follow Dick as he leaps across the fight. It’s unnerving. Dick is used to all eyes being on Bruce during their fights. To feel Songbird’s eyes on the back of his neck as he kicks, dodges, and bounds, makes his stomach roll uncomfortably. Still, he doesn’t let that distract him from the threats in front of him. He knocks another henchman down as Bruce throws another one over a table.

Suddenly a shrill bird cry breaks through the fight. Dick feels his muscles freeze and watches as Bruce goes unnaturally still as well. Even moving his lips is a struggle, but he fights through the paralyzing numbness anyway.

“What’s…happening…to us?”

“You are suffering under the effects of the cry of a genetically modified bellbird.” Songbird explains stepping closer to the dynamic duo, “the shrillness has been known to have paralytic results on those unfamiliar with the sound.”

He looks approvingly at Dick, “Good on you for being able to move your lips at all. Most can’t even manage that.”

Dick doesn’t like the look in Songbird’s eyes as he talks. Fear and disgust roll through him. He’d shiver with it if he still had control of his body. Dick looks at Bruce, whose eyes burn with fury but lips remain still.

“And now, may I introduce you both to the sorrowful sound of my enhanced mourning doves,” Songbird say. He takes a small box out of his pocket and pushes a button. A low cry echoes through the room. Dick has only a few seconds to appreciate the aching noise before everything goes black.

When consciousness returns to Dick he fully expects to open his eyes and find himself in a bizarre bird themed death trap. He’s been captured by enough villains to know the routine. With his eyes still closed he tries moving his arms and legs. He finds both bound to the chair he’s in. He can hear the rustling of wings, but concerningly can’t hear Bruce. With no other choice, Dick opens his eyes.

He is not, as he suspected, in a bird themed death trap. He’s actually bound to a chair, just outside a bird themed death trap. Instead, it’s only Bruce trapped inside. Dick rakes his eyes over his mentor, who is spread eagle and bound to the ground. He’s inside a giant dome cage. Above his head hangs a second cage, with three giant eagles. Dick breathes a small sigh of relief when he can see no injuries on Bruce. Though it appears Bruce is still knocked out from the mourning dove cry.

“Good of you to join us Robin,” Songbird says stepping into his line of sight.

“You feathered fiend!” Dick snarls as he pulls on his restraints. Songbird ignores his anger.

“Tell me Robin, how up are you on Greek mythology?”

The question takes Dick by surprise. He shrugs as he continues to glare at his captor suspiciously.

“I know enough.” He says shortly.

“Are you familiar with the Greek myth of Prometheus?”

Dick racks his mind. Bruce would know the answer. Dick can see Bruce’s leather bound anthology of Greek mythology sitting on the living room coffee table. Bruce thumbing through it on his never ending quest for more knowledge. Occasionally a particularly interesting myth will catch his attention and he and Dick will discuss it late into the night.

“Prometheus…he was the one who stole fire from the gods,” Dick says uncertainly. Songbird nods.

“And then what happened to him?”

“Holy Liver Resection!” Dick says as the rest of the myth comes flooding back to him, “Zeus had eagles eat his liver every night.”

Dick takes another look at the eagles perched above Bruce’s head and the vulnerable way he’s stretched out. Bruce is still out cold. The steady rise and fall of his chest is the only sign of life. Dick watches Bruce, unwilling to look at the vicious smile he’s sure is on Songbird’s face.

“I don’t think Batman will last nearly as long as dear old Prometheus.” Songbird says.

“You can’t do this!” Dick says. He struggles against the ropes around his wrists, but only succeeds in making his skin red and sore.

“You’re very bothered by this, aren’t you?” Songbird observes. Dick doesn’t bother to respond as he continues to pull. If he could just reach his utility belt… It’s useless, Dick’s hands are trapped.

“Don’t see this as an end,” Songbird says leaning down over Dick, “see this as a brand new beginning. I have so much that I can teach you.”

“Teach me!? As if I would ever learn anything from you,” Dick seethes. He longs to punch the smirk off his captor’s smug face.

“But you have so much potential!”

“Anything I have left to learn I’ll learn from Batman as soon as he frees himself from your trap!” Dick snaps. His promise lacks any bite as Bruce still has not regained consciousness and they both know it.

“Bah!” Songbird scoffs, “Bats belong in caves, robins belong in the sky. Can’t you see that he was holding you back, dimming your brilliant light?”

Dick growls at the man. He knows nothing of Dick’s life or Bruce’s role as friend, mentor, partner, and father.

“I’ve seen you fight. I’ve seen you work out puzzles. Between the two of us there isn’t anything we couldn’t steal.”

“I’d never steal,” Dick says scandalized, “and definitely never for you!”

Songbird looks at Dick thoughtfully and then glances back at Bruce who hasn’t done more than twitch since Dick woke up.

“But you’d do anything for Batman.”

“Batman wouldn’t ask me to steal for him.”

Songbird smiles, “You’re a clever lad, so let me cut you a deal. You work for me and Batman gets to keep his liver. I’ll untie him and when he wakes up, he’s free to go.”

Dick bites his lip. Bruce had been very firm when he had taught him that they don’t negotiate with criminals. They are crime fighters and there is no dignity in negotiating, or worse begging, with the criminal element. But this is Bruce’s life on the line! Dick’s eyes flicker to his mentor, hoping that by some miracle Bruce has woken up and is halfway through escaping the deadly trap. No such luck. Bruce remains blissfully unaware of his own peril.

If Bruce were awake things would be different. He would have a plan. He would be calm. But Dick isn’t Bruce. He doesn’t have a plan and his heart is racing beneath the ‘R’ on his uniform. Guilt and shame clog his throat, preventing him from saying the words, but he manages a short nod. It feels like a betrayal of everything Bruce instilled in him. But he can’t let Bruce die. The world needs Batman… and Dick can’t bear the thought of losing another father figure.

“Smart boy,” Songbird says patting his cheek. He nods to his henchmen. They enter Bruce’s cage and untie him. Bruce gives no response and Dick’s last fragile flame of hope flickers out. The henchmen leave the cage door slightly ajar for Bruce when he eventually comes around.

Songbird personally unties Dick, and then reties Dick’s hands together the moment Dick stands up.

“Just for insurance, you understand.” Songbird says. Dick glowers at him. Songbird ties a rope around Dick’s already bound hands so he can lead him like a dog on a leash. Dick’s cheeks burn with the humiliation of it.

They start walking towards the exit, Songbird tugging on Dick’s leash. It’s all Dick can do to remain quiet and keep his temper in check. That’s what Bruce would want from him. Remain calm and observe his surroundings.

“Wait, one more thing.” Songbird says stopping. He leans over to Dick’s utility belt and unlatches it.

“You won’t be needing this anymore.” He says as he drops it in the dirt. Dick’s heart sinks. He feels oddly vulnerable without his belt. Not to mention he doesn’t know how Bruce is going to be able to track him without it. Songbird gives him no time to mourn however, as Dick is jerked away from his most prized possession and towards their getaway van. Dick’s last view of Bruce is partially blocked by a henchman who pushes him roughly forward when Dick tries to turn around. There is nothing left for Dick to do but remain calm, observe his surroundings, and hope that Bruce will figure out a plan.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce looks for his youthful ward, and Dick takes in his new surroundings.

Bruce startles as he opens his eyes and comes face to beak with a massive eagle. The monstrous bird blinks at him through steel bars with a hungry look in its eye. Bruce sits up, noting the ropes loosely thrown over his arms and legs. He looks around for a familiar red and green costume and sees nothing.

“Robin?” He says, “Robin!”

The room is silent save for the rustling of feathers above his head. Bruce staggers to his feet. He feels a lingering headache from the mourning dove cry, but pushes through it.

“Robin, answer me.” He demands. Worry claws at inside his chest. He picks up the pace when something gold catches his eye. He steps closer and sees Dick’s utility belt on the ground. He picks it up as the worry sharpens into panic. Dick is gone and he doesn’t even have his belt.

Bruce leaves Songbird’s hideout and heads to Commissioner Gordon’s office. If Songbird has tried to ransom Dick, that would be the first place he would contact. Bruce finds himself desperately hoping that Songbird realizes that Dick is worth more alive than dead; that he would pay any price to see his boy unharmed.

Bruce doesn’t bother to knock as he enters Commissioner Gordon’s office. Commissioner Gordon and Chief O’Hara both look up, and noting the frown on his face and the absence of the boy wonder bounding in behind him, grow concerned.

“Is everything alright Batman?” Commissioner Gordon asks.

“I fear not Commissioner,” Bruce says, “Have you heard from Gotham’s newest criminal, that sinister Songbird?”

“No, not since you and Robin were in my office,” he says and then adds hesitantly, “speaking of which…”

“I believe he’s fallen into Songbird’s clutches.” Bruce says.

“Begorrah!” Chief O’Hara gasp, “Not Robin, he’s such a spritely lad.”

“Anything we can do to help Batman, you know that.” Commissioner Gordon says seriously.

“Thank you. For now just keep your ears open and if you hear anything call me immediately. I will begin tracking Songbird down on my own.” Bruce says. He leaves as disappointment winds itself around him. That had been his best chance for finding Dick.

Bruce is loath to return home without his youthful ward in tow. He knows he won’t be able to look Aunt Harriet in the eye until he’s sure Dick is unharmed and far away from any crook. Telling Alfred will be hard. The man has looked at Dick as the grandson he never had from the moment Dick walked through the doors. If anything were to happen to Dick it would break Alfred’s heart. Bruce cuts off that line of thinking. Nothing will happen to Dick, because Bruce is going to find him, save him, and lock Songbird up for good.

Alfred is dusting the batcave when Bruce enters. He looks up expectantly and Bruce watches as the smile almost instantly slips off his face. Bruce yanks down his cowl. He can’t have this conversation as Batman.

“Master Bruce, where is Master Dick?” Alfred asks. Bruce looks away, not wanting to see Alfred’s face.

“Songbird has him,” he admits and then adds, “but I will find him.”

Alfred is silent for a moment. Then Bruce feels a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Of course you will. I don’t doubt you for a moment, and neither, I’m sure does Master Dick.”

Bruce smiles, “Thank you Alfred.”

Drawing on Alfred’s strength, Bruce pulls away and heads to the batcomputer. It blinks to life. Bruce works in silence. It’s a rare, unnerving, experience. The batcave is never silent when Dick is in it. The boy is forever finding something to say. And not the idle chatter of a bored teenager, but clever observations. Bruce is constantly amazed by his ward’s intelligence and maturity. Something, Bruce reflects, he doesn’t tell Dick nearly enough. The batcomputer dings.

~*~*~*~

Meanwhile Dick leans miserably against the bars of his gilded birdcage. Songbird is talking to him, but he can’t bring himself to listen to a word of it. Instead Dick analyzes the lock on the cage. If he still had his utility belt he’d be able to pick and be out of here the moment he was left alone, now all he can do is stare at it and hope Bruce is on his way.

“Pay attention!” Songbird bangs on the cage, “We have a heist planned, and you need to know your role.”

“I’m coming?” Dick asks. He tries to keep his voice neutral, to not let any trace of excitement slip in. He can’t afford to have Songbird change his mind.

“Of course you’re coming. You’re my sidekick. You need to be involved in these types of things.”

“R-right!” Dick says, “Yeah, let me out of here and let’s go.”

He tries not to look too eager as Songbird unlocks his cage. Immediately Dick springs into action. His fist flies directly at Songbird’s face. And misses.

Songbird sighs heavily, “I expected that reaction.”

A henchman grabs Dick from behind, lifting him off the ground. Dick’s legs kick wildly. Songbird moves to stand next to him. _Snap._ Something cold and heavy clicks into place around Dick’s neck. He tugs at it desperately. The collar remains firmly in place.

“You need to learn how to behave if this partnership is going to work.” Songbird says. He pushes a button. The collar vibrates as the sounds of shrieking birds fill Dick’s head. Dick’s vision blurs. Pain fills his head. The henchman holding him lets go and Dick sinks to his knees all thoughts of escape buried under the cacophony pounding in his head.

Songbird presses another button and the collar goes still and silent. Dick trembles, trying to get his breathing under control.

“Think twice before you try anything. That was only the lowest setting,” Songbird says, “now stand up, we don’t have all day.”

Dick pulls himself to his feet, gingerly clutching his aching head. He glowers at Songbird as the man flutters about the room as he prepares for his latest crime.

“Take this,” Songbird says, thrusting a rifle into Dick’s hands. Revulsion goes through Dick at the sight of the weapon. As if he would ever use a gun. What would Bruce say?

Mistaking the look of disgust on Dick’s face for something more sinister, Songbird sneers, “Don’t get any funny ideas about using it against us, it’s not actually loaded. I just want you to point it around and look menacing.”

Dick has half a mind to drop the gun, but the phantom pain of the screeching birds keeps the gun tightly in his hands. Dick feels like a coward. His face burns with shame. A voice inside his head that sounds like Bruce, except far more cruel than Bruce has ever been, scolds him for his weakness.

“Everyone ready?” Songbird asks. The henchmen and henchwoman all respond with a chorus of yeses. Dick remains silent.

“Robin, I asked a question.” Songbird says, “I expect a response from my sidekick.”

“Where are we going?” Dick asks, in an attempt to stall. He doesn’t want to give Songbird the satisfaction of obeying his command.

“I believe I already went over the plan while you were busy sulking.” Songbird says. Dick’s jaw clicks as he clenches it. He longs to verbally lash out and give Songbird a piece of his mind, but he restrains himself. It’s not what Bruce would do. Dick tries to think what Bruce would do, but comes up disappointingly blank. It would probably be something clever though. Bruce would probably have already escaped by now.

“However, I don’t want my sidekick to look like a fool,” Songbird sighs dramatically, “We are going to Gotham’s Premier Research Facility, where Doctor Erskine has his new growth formula stored.”

Dick glares at him suspiciously. It’s a surprisingly un-birdlike crime.

“Why do you need growth formula?”

“Selective breeding can only go so far with increasing my birds’ sizes, and I’m going to need even the smallest of nightingales to be massive if I’m going to use them to take over Gotham.”

Dick gasps, “Holy Monstrous Mockingbirds, you could destroy the whole city!”

“I know,” Songbird says proudly, “but I’ll spare the good citizens of Gotham…for a fee.”

Dick feels sick with disgust.

“Now I repeat myself, are you ready Robin?” Songbird asks. Everyone’s eyes swivel to Dick. Dick looks for an out, any excuse not to answer Songbird’s question. Songbird’s smile takes on a sharper edge as his hand plays with the collars remote. Dick casts one last desperate glance towards the door, but Bruce doesn’t burst through it. What’s taking him so long? Songbird’s fingers twitch towards the button. Dick’s resolve crumbles. What choice does he have? He needs to save his strength for an escape.

“Yes,” he says through a clenched jaw, “I’m ready.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songbird takes Robin on his first criminal caper.

The Gotham Premier Research Facility sits just north of the city. It’s a sleek modern building with far too many windows in Dick’s opinion. It makes the building far too exposed, too vulnerable to attacks. Songbird’s van pulls up to the building. They aren’t subtle. There aren’t any guards here. This isn’t a military research facility. Nothing they make is meant to be a weapon.

“Robin, stick close to me.” Songbird says as the colorful henchmen jump out. The henchwoman waits with the van running, ready for them to make fast getaway.

Dick grits his teeth, but gives Songbird the desired nod. He can’t tip his hand yet. He’s going to escape and if he can’t escape then he’s going to make darned sure that he’s going to leave behind some clues for Bruce to follow. Either way, he can’t do that if Songbird leaves him in the van.

The foul feathered fowls and Dick sneak through the tiled white halls. Its afterhours and only a few dedicated scientists have forgone dinner in their quest to further knowledge. Songbird moves confidently down identical halls and Dick wonders just how long they have been planning this heist. Unease drips down his spine. How long had Songbird been spying and plotting right under his and Bruce’s noses? And how many more future criminals are out there, yet unknown, planning their first capers? They are sobering questions and a solemn reminder that crime fighting is a never ending struggle.

_Bang!_ Songbird kicks open a lab door.

“Alright, this is a stick up. Nobody move and nobody gets hurt!” Songbird shouts. One of the henchmen shoots his gun at the ceiling for emphasis. Someone screams. Dicks forces his way around the henchmen to get a better view. There are four scientists in the room; an elderly man, a middle aged woman, and a man and woman who both appear to be research assistants.

The moment Dick’s in front he regrets it. All the scientists focus in on him. He watches as their eyes spark with hope at the sight of Robin, Boy Wonder, only to dim with worry when they see with the gun in his hands and the lack of Batman. Dick wants to curl up in a ditch. Shame courses though him. He can’t save these people. They don’t trust him; they think he’s willingly working with this band of bandits. What will they tell Batman?

“You!” Songbird says stepping closer to the elderly man, “Where is your growth formula?”

The old man drags his disappointed eyes away from Dick. His face hardens as he takes in Songbird and the gun pointed at his chest.

“My research doesn’t belong in the hands of thieves.” He says coldly.

“Doctor Erskine, you wound me,” Songbird says dramatically, “I am not just a petty thief, I’m going to be the greatest criminal Gotham has ever known! Even Batman’s ex-sidekick realized I’m unstoppable and flipped sides.”

Dick’s face burns at Songbird’s lie, but he doesn’t correct it. Doctor Erskine shoots him a look of loathing. The others coldly ignore his presence. He doesn’t blame them.

_Bang!_ Songbird’s gun goes off. Dick jumps. The middle aged woman screams and the research assistants both look ready to pass out. Doctor Erskine doesn’t move, though he pales considerably. Dick looks for any trace of blood, but finds none. He looks past the doctor and finds a bullet hole in the wall just next to the doctor’s head.

“That was just a warning. Now tell me where your formula is,” Songbird says aiming his gun, “or next time, I won’t miss.”

The room collectively holds its breath, all waiting for Doctor Erskine’s reply. Dick tenses, ready to tackle the good doctor to the ground if Songbird shoots again. Doctor Erskine shakes his head.

“No. I will tell you nothing.”

“Then I suppose it’s here where your story ends. Goodb—”

“Wait!”

The young woman hesitantly steps forward. Her eyes are filled with tears, but she doesn’t let them fall.

“I can take you to the formula.” She says, her voice shaking. She’s clearly afraid, but Dick can’t remember ever being so impressed by someone’s bravery.

“What are you doing Stella!” Doctor Erskine moves to grab her arm, only to stop short as Songbird levels the gun at them both.

“The formula isn’t worth you dying over.” Her eyes remain fixed on the gun.

“A very reasonable position.” Songbird assures her. There’s a smirk on his face that Dick is dying to punch off, “Now where is it?”

“In the office, locked in a desk drawer. I can show you.” She says. Songbird nods, his face alight with anticipation. Dick sees his chance.

“I’ll take her. You should keep an eye on this lot in case they try anything.” Dick says, he tries to inject as much contempt into his voice as possible. It must work, because Songbird looks positively thrilled by his initiative.

“Yes, very good Robin. I’m glad to see you finally stepping up.” Songbird says. Stella doesn’t move. Suspicion plays across her face. Dick grabs her wrist, more roughly than he’s ever grabbed an innocent person, but he can’t afford to have Songbird question his loyalty right now. He tugs and she comes along easily albeit stiffly.

They walk down a maze of hallways, away from the lab portion of the buildings and towards the offices. Neither of them look at each other, Dick wants to reassure her, but doesn’t dare speak until he’s as far away from Songbird as possible. Stella takes out a key and unlocks one of the office doors. As soon as the door clicks behind them, Stella glares at him. Fury joins the fear painted across her face.

“What are you doing Robin? Working for a man like that?”

“Not willingly,” Dick cuts in, “it’s a long story.”

“Where’s Batman?” She asks, from her tone Dick can tell she’s not yet ready to drop her anger or give him the benefit of the doubt.

“I don’t know. The last I saw him he was unconscious.” Dick says, “I don’t think we can rely on Batman to save us right now.”

“So what do we do?” She asks hesitantly, “give him what he wants?”

“Heck no! He’s a monster.” Dick says, “See this collar on me?”

He points to it and she nods.

“As long as it’s on I can’t fight him. Do you think you could remove it? Then I could go back and really give it to him.” He pounds his fist for emphasis.

She looks closer at the device around his neck, “It looks like a simple enough locking mechanism.”

She fishes around her skirt pocket for a bobby pin. Dick takes a seat on the desk. Relief courses through him. The moment the infernal machine is off him he’s going to go back there and show Songbird that nobody splits up the Dynamic Duo and gets away with it.

“Hold still,” Stella says. Dick raises his chin and Stella sticks the bobby pin the keyhole. Something inside it clicks.

But it doesn’t open. Instead it begins vibrating. The horrible shrieking floods Dick’s mind and he clamps his hands over his ears as he falls off the desk. His head is on fire. He writhes on the ground. He can just barely hear Stella shouting his name over the din of the shrieking birds. She twists the bobby pin in desperation. The bird calls get louder. Dick screams. His whole body is on fire. Tears stream down his face.

He feels hands on him. It’s Stella picking his head off the floor and cradling him. Tears that aren’t his splash onto his face. Faintly he can hear her apologizing over and over. Dick wants to lean into her and bury his head in her soft shirt until it muffles the bird shrieks. He wants to soak up what little comfort he can from her. But it isn’t safe. Songbird must know that they triggered the collar. He’ll be here any second.

Dick pushes her away weakly, “Run!”

“What?” She reaches for him again. Dick can see the reluctance to leave him in every line of her face.

“Go!” He snaps, “Before he gets here. Run.”

Biting her lip, Dick thinks she’s about to argue when she suddenly looks at the door. She must hear footsteps approaching. She runs to the window and opens it. They’re on the first floor. It’s easy for her to clamber out. Despite the pain, Dick breathes easier as he watches her close the window behind her. She’s safe. He managed to save at least one person.

Moments after she disappears from view, the door opens. Songbird stands in the doorway. He gives Dick a disappointed look.

“Oh Robin, I had such high hopes that you were finally coming around.” He shakes his head, “We’ll talk about this when we get home.”

One of the henchmen comes in next, dragging young man research assistant by the arm. The young man stares at Dick, still twitching on the floor.

“Open the drawer!” Songbird demands. The man turns away from Dick and does as he’s told. He pulls out a vial filled with a liquid that glows blue.

“Beautiful,” Songbird murmurs, admiring his ill-gotten gain. He tucks them safely away before snapping for his henchman.

“Grab Robin. We’re through here.”

“What about the girl? She escaped?” The henchman asks.

“She’s of no consequence. We got what we came for.” Songbird says, “Now let’s move out.” 

Rough hands grab Dick and he’s tossed carelessly over the henchman’s shoulder.

“Please,” Dick moans. He hates the thought of begging to this monster, but he’s never felt pain like this before. He pushes aside the taste of defeat to plead again. He feels like his brain is melting inside his skull.

“You should have thought about the consequences before trying to remove your collar. I’ll turn it off when we get home and not a second sooner.” Songbird says, using the same scolding voice a father would use on a misbehaving child. Dick would scowl at him if he has the energy. Instead he closes his eyes and prays that he will pass out on the drive back to the base.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce continues his search for his missing partner and Dick finds out what else Songbird's collar can do.

When Commissioner Gordon called the batphone Bruce had been out scouring the streets and slums for Songbird and his missing heir. Alfred alerted him via the bat emergency car line, and Bruce had gone straight to Commissioner Gordon’s office.

“Is this about Robin?” Bruce asks, not bothering with pleasantries as he marches through the doors. Chief O’Hara is in his customary position behind Commissioner Gordon, fiddling with his hat and not meeting Bruce’s eyes. Bruce feels his stomach clench.

“Please, have a seat.” Commissioner Gordon says solemnly. Bruce doesn’t move.

“I think I prefer to stand.” Bruce says. Commissioner Gordon gives a short nod.

“Songbird and his crew were spotted entering Gotham’s Premier Research Facility. Robin was among them.” Commissioner Gordon says. He hesitates before adding, “Witnesses report he was carrying a gun.”

Relief and fear crash over Bruce at once. Dick is still alive. There’s still hope. But what could Songbird have done to him to make Dick willingly pick up a firearm?

“I’ll head out now, with any luck they’ll still be there.” Bruce says. He races out of the room.

Bruce pulls up to Gotham’s Premier Research Facility. He parks the batmobile, careful to keep his eyes averted from the empty passenger seat. He feels Dick’s absence like a weight around his shoulders that he can’t shake off.

He dashes inside, going through his memories for any bird related experiments the facility may be conducting. He comes up empty.

“Batman! Batman!” An old man pokes his head out of a lab.

“Doctor Erskine, what happened?” Bruce asks.

“It was just awful Batman,” Doctor Erskine wrings his hands, “a feathered man came in and held us up at gunpoint. He wanted my growth formula.”

“Your growth formula?” Bruce says thoughtfully.

“Yes, he was spouting off nonsense about making monstrous bird creatures with it. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Robin was with him.”

“Was he hurt?” Bruce asks. He’s unable to keep the worry from breaking through his mask of professionalism.

“No! He was helping the bird man, Songbird I think he said his name was. Songbird seemed downright fond of him.”

It’s a trick. It has to be. He knows Dick better than he has ever known anyone else.

“What did Robin do?” Bruce asks and braces himself for the worst.

“He took Stella. They went to get the formula, and he was rather rough with her. Then Songbird and his goons left and none of them came back.”

Disappointment settles in Bruce’s stomach, but he doesn’t let it show. He gives the doctor a tight smile.

“Thank you for your assistance.”

His thoughts are plagued with concern over his partner and his unusual behavior. Was Songbird threatening him? Had he removed Dick’s mask and realized his secret identity and was blackmailing him? So many possibilities and the longer Bruce dwelled on it the darker his thoughts become. The darkest thought he kept pushed back into the furthest dustiest corners of him mind. The thought that Dick had grown tired of his role as Batman’s sidekick and had willingly joined Songbird and his sinister crew.

Running footsteps distract Bruce and Doctor Erskine. A young woman, blonde hair falling messily out of her bun and her sweater and skirt stained with dirt runs down the hall.

“Stella!” Doctor Erskine says, “What happened to you?

“I climbed out a window and I’ve been hiding in a bush for the past twenty minutes.” She brushes a leaf out of her hair absentmindedly, “I didn’t dare come out until I knew Songbird was gone, but then I saw the batmobile.”

She turns her wide eyes to Bruce. Bruce can see the lingering trace of fear, all but masked by the determined set of her jaw.

“Tell me everything.” Bruce says.

“Robin saved me.” She says and Bruce feels his knees go weak with relief at that one small statement.

“He had a collar on him. I tried to get it off but it started hurting him.” She says, “He was clutching his head and screaming like he could hear something that nobody else could. But despite that, he still told me to run. I’m sorry Batman, I wanted to help him…but he was adamant and Songbird was just outside the door. I left him.”

Bruce puts a hand on her shoulder, “you did the right thing. It is not a citizen’s responsibility to protect a crime fighter.”

She nods, but Bruce can tell guilt will haunt her dreams for a long time.

“Did you hear anything while you were hiding? A clue?”

“No, but I found this in the lobby when I was coming back inside.” Stella says. She holds out a pamphlet. A picture of a great brown owl swooping down from the trees, talons extended adorns the front of it. In fancy script Bruce reads _Come see the great gray owl. Rarest owl in the world. Appearing at the Gotham City Park._ He opens the pamphlet and skims through a list of facts about the bird and its habitat. A natural bird of prey, Bruce can only imagine how much more deadly the bird will become after a dose of Doctor Erskine’s formula.

“Thank you.” Bruce says to Stella before he takes off running. He knows where they’re going next and this time he won’t fail. He won’t let Dick down again.

~*~*~*~

Dick isn’t granted the luxury of unconsciousness. He groans and thrashes on the dirty floor of the van, while Songbird whistles a merry tune. Occasionally Dick’s thrashing brings him too close to a henchman’s foot and he’ll receive a swift kick in the ribs. Dick tries to remember everything Bruce ever taught him about pain management. He tries to control his breathing and redirect his focus away from his body. He even gives meditation a halfhearted attempt before an ear piercing shriek breaks his concentration and has him clutching his head again.

Bruce would be ashamed of him. He’s so far failed to escape Songbird’s clutches, failed to stop him from terrorizing those scientists and stealing the formula, and now he’s failed at not looking completely weak in front of the enemy. Batman would never find himself rolling around on the dirty ground, whimpering like a child, his dignity in tatters.

The van pulls into their newest hideout, a nature preserve just outside the city. Songbird commands the henchmen to set up camp, and then stands over Dick watching him thoughtfully. He pushes a button and the collar turns off. Dick goes limp as he breathes heavily.

“Now, perhaps you’d like to apologize for that awful display of do-goodery back there.” Songbird says. Dick finds just enough energy to glare at him.

“A simple apology that’s all I ask. I know you’re still new to crime and these things take time,” Songbird pushes.

“I will never apologize for doing what’s right.” Dick says. He forces himself gather up what remains of his dignity and pull himself off the dirt encrusted floor.

“Careful boy I still have the col—”

“I don’t care about the danged collar.” Dick snaps, “I will never stop fighting you.”

“You’re still new to all this, give it time.” Songbird says. He reaches out to smooth Dick’s hair. It’s almost fatherly and Dick flinches away from his touch.

“You really think you can make me like you?” Dick asks, drawing himself up to full height, “I am nothing like you.”

“Little birdy,” Songbird sighs adopting a parental tone, “Batman has filled your head with so much nonsense about right and wrong. I’ve got so much of his mess to undo.”

“Batman is twice the man you will ever be,” Dick snarls, “and if you think I would ever choose you over him than you must be bird brained.”

The look of fatherly patience slips off Songbird’s face. He seethes as he pulls out the collar’s controller. Dick braces for more pain, but can’t bring himself to regret anything he said no matter what tortures he’s punished with for his impetuousness. Songbird reads the expression on his face. 

“Why do you care so much about Batman? He’s not coming to save you.” Songbird snaps. Dick doesn’t bother to answer. He knows Bruce is coming, he just needs to hold out until then.

Songbird looks down at his remote, “I could crank the collar all the way up, but the end results are never pretty.”

Dick bites his lip and tries not to look scared. He has no doubt that Bruce will find him, but he is becoming increasingly concerned about what condition he will be in when Bruce does.

“But, I want you to be my sidekick and you can’t be that if the collar renders you a permanent twitching vegetable.” Songbird continues thoughtfully. Dick keeps his mouth shut. He senses that Songbird is coming to an important conclusion and Dick isn’t sure what he wants that conclusion to be.

“I so wanted you to join me willingly,” Songbird says, “but I’m a busy man with prodigious plans.”

He taps a few times on the controller while Dick watches, waiting for the moment that pain will send him to his knees.

“You will be my sidekick. You will be obedient and loyal.”

“Never. I don’t care how much pain you put me through you blackhearted bird!” Dick says fiercely.

“Don’t worry, this won’t hurt you at all.” Songbird promises. He pushes the final button. Sweet chirping fills Dick’s ears. It’s the most beautiful noise he’s ever heard. He doesn’t just hear it, he feels it with his whole body. Aches and pain are washed away by the pleasant song.

Dick smiles. He could listen to this sing song of birds for the rest of his life and never be discontent.

“Look at me Robin.” Songbird says. Dick’s smile flickers. Hatred rises in belly before being gently soothed away by sweet melodies. Dick tries again, reaching for the anger that has been simmering under his skin since his capture. But every time he feels it, he’s instantly soothed.

“What…are you doing…to me?” Every word is a struggle to get out. Everything in him is urging him to not question what’s happening, to be blissful to be blessed by the lovely songs playing through his mind.

“Like it? Modified turtledove calls. Most beautiful sound in the world and I gave it to you. You’re welcome.”

“Thank you.” Dick says before he can stop himself. He frowns even as Songbird’s grin stretches wider. He doesn’t want to thank Songbird for anything; he has nothing to be grateful for. Yet, even as he the thought enters his head, feelings of gratitude bubble in his chest.

The music is relentless; soothing every negative thought and feeling and pushing forced euphoria into his mind and body. Batman had always been a firm teacher in rationality over emotions. Dick tries to call on reason and logic, but all attempts are squashed by the merry melodies that befuddle his senses.

“You never have to go without the turtledove calls again.” Songbird promises.

“Thank you,” Dick says with more sincerity.

“Unless Batman tries to take you away from me.” Songbird says. He watches Dick’s eyes closely. There’s vague recognition at the mention of Batman. Dick’s heart gives a painful thud. Bruce is coming to save him. He just needs to hold out until Bruce comes…but he doesn’t need saving. He isn’t suffering. In fact, this is the happiest he’s felt since his parents died. He feels like he’s swinging on a trapeze; free and graceful. He’s exactly where he belongs. And nobody, not even Bruce, is going to take him from here.

“I won’t let him,” Dick says earnestly, “I belong by your side.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce finds his wayward ward, and then things go wrong.

Brue speeds to the Gotham City Park, fully aware that he stopped following the speed limit three miles ago. He doesn’t care, nothing is more important that reaching Dick. Bruce pulls up to the park, leaping out of the car. He desperately searches for some sign that Songbird has already struck, and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees nothing. It seems that he’s beaten the criminal here. That gives him precious time to clear the park of any innocent civilians. 

He finds an officer directing traffic just inside the park. It’s not Chief O’Hara, Bruce’s preferred law enforcement officer when it comes to these things, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“Officer Cleary,” Bruce says, “I need you clear the park as quickly as you can.”

Officer Cleary stares for a moment, “Why?”

Bruce bites back a growl of impatience. Chief O’Hara never wastes valuable time asking pointless questions during emergencies. Bruce will need to have a talk with him about how his men are trained.

“Because there is a criminal on his way to steal the great gray owl. I’m on my way now to find the bird’s handler, but the less people in the park the better.”

Bruce waits just long enough for Officer Cleary to nod before he takes off deeper into the park. Plans and counter-plans race through his mind. He can’t afford any mistakes with Dick’s safety on the line. He finds the handler surrounded by a crowd of park goers giving a highly informative and educational presentation on the bird’s dietary habits. The bird rests comfortably on his arm, its sharp talons digging deep into his leather glove.

Bruce is loath to break up this educational opportunity. It’s so rare for city dwellers to observe such a beautiful piece of nature’s wonder up close, but he has no other choice. He pulls out his bat-megaphone.

“Attention citizens of Gotham. There is a dangerous criminal heading towards the park. Please make your way to the exits in a quick yet orderly fashion,” Bruce announces to the crowd. The crowd begins to disperse as people flee towards the exits. Bruce fights his way through the crowd to the bird handler.

The great gray owl flutters in displeasure at the chaos surrounding it. The handler works to calm it with gentle words and soft touches.

Bruce puts a hand on the man’ shoulder, “I’m sorry to inform you that both yourself and your bird are in extreme danger. I recommend heading straight to the police department until I can have this sorted out. Ask for Chief O’Hara and tell him Batman sent you.”

The man stammers out a thank you as he stumbles after the crowd. Not a moment too soon, Bruce notes. For mere seconds after he disappears over the rolling park hills, Bruce watches a brightly colored van pulls up.

Songbird and his crew pile out of it, but Bruce only has eyes for Dick. He breathes a small sigh of relief when he can see no injuries on his boy, though there is something disconcerting about the hazy grin on his face.

“Songbird,” Bruce roars, “It’s over. The owl is gone and police are on their way. Surrender now and perhaps the court will be lenient.”

“It’s not over until the fat birdie sings Batman.” Songbird says, “We’ll deal with you and then find that owl.”

Songbird turns to his men and Dick, “fly my birds.”

Bruce expects the henchmen to attack on command. What he doesn’t expect is Dick to leap unhesitatingly into the fray. Bruce watches as his partner bounds gracefully across the grounds, closing the distance between them. The only sign Dick gives of recognizing him is a slight frown.

Dick reaches Bruce first. Bruce had hoped that once he was again by Bruce’s side Dick would drop the charade and they would once again fight as partners. Instead Dick winds up and delivers a fierce blow to Bruce’s stomach. Bruce doubles over, not expecting such viciousness from his ward.

“Robin, it’s me.” He coughs.

Dick gives no indication that he heard him as he winds up for another punch. Bruce blocks his fist and takes a closer look at his boy. The smile is gone, but there is still a dazed unfocused look in his eye. Bruce catches him by the shoulders and shakes him.

“Snap out of it.”

“Don’t touch me!” Dick snaps, “I won’t let you take me away from Songbird. I won’t!”

Dick launches himself at Bruce, wrapping his arms around his waist and sending them both tumbling to the ground. Bruce rolls with it, flipping Dick on his back, sitting on his stomach, and pinning his hands. This fight is going to end now. But just in case, Bruce slips a tracker to the back of Dick’s cape.

“Enough.” Bruce says sternly. Out of the corner of his eye he watches as Songbird and his henchmen hang back, enjoying the show that Bruce and Dick are providing.

Dick has always been flexible, far more than anyone Bruce has ever met. Bruce _knows_ this. He’s still caught off guard when Dick’s foot cracks him in the back of the head. Bruce grunts, his grip slackening for a moment. That second is all Dick needs to free an arm and sock Bruce against the jaw. Dick wiggles free and jumps back to his feet in a fighting stance.

“Robin, whatever he’s done to you we can fix it.” Bruce says holding his hands out.

“No!” Dick says, his dazed expression becoming frenzied, “You can’t take me from him! I _belong_ with him!”

Dick’s punches become more erratic. Bruce blocks them, but despite multiple openings, never throws one himself. He tries, but the thought of hitting his son is so abhorrent that he never gets further than a clenched fist.

One of Dick’s punches slips through. Then another one. Bruce’s jaw throbs. Dick is quick and shows no sign of tiring. Bruce isn’t sure how much more he can take, and yet he can’t bring himself to attack.

It’s a kick to the gut followed by a two quick punches to the ribs and face that finally has Bruce crumpling to his knees. Like vultures spotting wounded prey the henchmen are on him immediately. There are more kicks and punches than Bruce could possibly defend against. He does the only thing he can; he tucks in his arms and focuses on protecting his head. After ten brutal minutes the assault stops. Bruce is hauled to his feet and if it weren’t for the henchmen on either side of him Bruce knows he wouldn’t be standing upright.

Fight over, Dick returns to Songbird’s side.

“Good work,” Songbird says proudly, ruffling Dick’s hair. Dick preens under the praise. Batman snarls in disgust, lurching forward. He’s easily held back

“What did you do to him?” Batman growls.

“I unfettered his mind from your inane bat-morals.” Songbird says, “he’s quite literally as free as a bird now.”

“You didn’t free him from anything.” Bruce says. He stares at Dick, silently begging his boy to look at him, but Dick only has eyes for Songbird. Bruce shudders in disgust at seeing Dick’s naturally loyal nature warped into something more akin to slavish devotion. 

“I gave him a gift, can you blame the lad if he’s grateful to me.” Songbird says. He’s smiling smugly, like he knows exactly what Bruce is thinking.

“Please,” Bruce says softly. It stings his pride to beg, but he pushes through, “Let him go. He’s just a boy. He’s not a criminal.”

Songbird’s smirk only stretches wider, “On the contrary, I’ve found he has a certain knack for crime. You’ve just been holding him back.”

“You conniving crook!” Bruce shouts as he desperately tries to break the henchmen’s grip on his arms. How could anyone look at Dick and see a criminal? Kindness and compassion radiate from him like sunbeams on a summer day.

_Crack!_ A henchman lands a solid blow to the back of Bruce’s head and he knows no more.

When Bruce comes to he’s in a darkened greenhouse and his hands are cuffed to a large wooden pull behind his back. He straightens and looks around.

“Shhh…I wouldn’t make too much noise if I were you.” Songbird whispers. Dick is again by his side.

“What did you do?” Bruce asks, keeping his voice low. Now that his eyes have adjusted to the low light he sees that he’s surrounded by hundreds of bird cages, all with sheets draped over them.

“I’m glad you asked,” Songbird says quietly, “welcome to the birdhouse.”

He spreads his arms wide, like a child proudly showing off.

“Surrounding you are hundreds of robins –beautiful birds—that have been genetically modified by yours truly,” Songbird says, “with a pull of a lever the sheets will drop, the birds will awaken, and then they will begin to sing. A most wondrous wee warble.”

Songbird’s smile turns cold and sharp.

“Unfortunately for you side effects include insanity, bleeding from the ears, and eventually death.” He adds.

Songbird begins walking towards the exit, Dick trailing after him like an obedient puppy. Near the exit Songbird stops in front of a giant lever. He grabs it and then pauses looking thoughtful. He lets go.

“I think it’s only fitting that Robin should be the one to pull the lever.” He says, “That way you can be killed by Robin commanded robins. How fitting.” 

Songbird steps aside and gestures for Dick to grab the lever. Dick doesn’t move. Bruce feels his heart pound in his chest as he watches Dick lose his dazed look. Silently Bruce cheers his son on as a battle for control plays out across Dick’s face.

“Kill him?” Dick asks, his voice coming out in a strangled whisper. Songbird puts a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s the only way I can be sure that he won’t take you away from me. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

“No!” Dick says, sounding horrified at the thought.

“Then pull the lever.”

Again Dick doesn’t move. Bruce’s heart swells with pride as he watches Dick yet again ignore a direct command.

“Killing…wrong…” Dick chokes out.

“And who taught you that?” Songbird asks patiently.

“…Batman…” Dick whispers.

“Exactly!” Songbird says, “and you know that you can’t trust anything Batman ever told you. He’s a bad man. Do you understand?”

Dick gives a jerky nod, like there’s still a part of him that’s fighting the agreement.

“Good,” Songbird says reaching out pet Dick’s head. Dick melts under his touch.

“Now pull the lever.”

Dick steps forward and grabs the lever with both hands.

“Don’t!” Bruce says. Dick’s head snaps to look at him. For an instant Bruce sees a flicker of the real Dick, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. Dick pulls the lever.

“Goodbye Batman, enjoy the concert.” Songbird says as he ushers Dick out the door. The sheets fall away and the robins begin to stir.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman's final bid to save Robin.

The first few tweets aren’t so bad. Bruce can mostly block out the chirps that drill into his head like ice picks. But the more blankets that fall away and the more robins that awaken, the harder it becomes. Bruce’s brain feels fuzzy and try as he might he can’t move his arms to reach his utility belt. Bruce takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He has to focus. It’s not just his life on the line, but Dick’s freedom.

He has to make the birds stop singing. But how? Bruce’s eyes fly open. _That’s it!_ He purses his lips and blows. The hawk has a very distinctive call and if Bruce can mimic it just right, natural instincts should drive the robins into silence.

It’s working. The robins fall silent as they go still in their cages. Bruce keeps whistling as his fingers work their way to the inside lining of his other glove. He feels around until he finds what he’s looking for; a common bobby pin. It’s the perfect tool for woman who wish to keep their hair set and for crime fighters who need to occasionally pick locks.

It’s difficult to pick the handcuffs when he can’t see what he’s doing. The task made even more difficult by the fact that he doesn’t dare stop whistling. His fingers work diligently, twisting and bending, until finally he hears the click of the handcuffs unlocking.

They fall away and Bruce rubs his sore wrists. He slinks across the room. A few birds shift uneasily at his movement, but Bruce’s whistling remains the only sound that echoes off the glass walls. Still the birds watch him with beady eyes, ready to sing the moment he falters.

Slowly his hand creeps to his utility belt and he pulls out a real lock pick. His mouth is getting dryer and his whistling is becoming fainter. His hands remain steady however as he works the lock pick into the lock. The birds continue their vigil over him.

Finally the lock clicks and the door opens. Bruce slips through and slams the door behind him, breathing a sigh of relief. He pulls out his batmobile tracker. It’s parked a few miles away, back at the park. He starts running.

He’s never fun faster before in his life. Every time he thinks of slowing, all he has to do is imagine Dick’s hazy grin directed at Songbird and his legs respond. By the time he makes it to the batmobile his heart is trying to pound its way out of his chest. He doesn’t give himself time to catch his breath though. Bruce switches on the tracker locator. It beeps as it picks up the tracker Bruce had planted on the back of Dick’s cape.

“I’m coming old chum.” Bruce says quietly. The batmobile roars to life and he takes off down the road.

~*~*~*~

Meanwhile, safely tucked away at their hideout Songbird and his crew plot another way to snatch the great gray owl.

“Robin, you’re a clever lad. Do you have any ideas?” Songbird asks. Robin beams at the compliment, thrilled to be included in their planning session.

“I say we don’t wait for their next public appearance. We know the hotel the handler’s staying at. We go in and hit him hard.” Dick says punching his fist. Songbird nods.

“I like it. Simple and to the point.”

Songbird puts a hand on Dick’s shoulder, “I want you to take the lead on this heist. You’re still a bit wet behind the ears, but I think you can handle it.”

“Thank you,” Dick says, his eyes shining with gratitude, “I promise to make you proud.”

“I know you will son.” Songbird says ruffling his hair.

At that moment the door flies open as Bruce burst in. He takes a second to assess the situation and reassure himself that though mind controlled, Dick is otherwise unharmed.

“Batman? I thought I took care of you once already,” Songbird huffs.

“Your trap wasn’t nearly as clever as you thought it was,” Bruce says.

“No matter, now I get the pleasure of watching you die. Robin attack.”

Dick swings at Bruce, who blocks it and grabs Dick’s wrist. He spins him around and pins him against the wall.

“Fight Robin. I know you don’t want to do this.” Bruce growls in his ear. Dick squirms in his grasp but Bruce doesn’t let up as he continues his mantra of encouragement. His encouragement is abruptly cut off by a kick to the inside of his knee. Bruce grunts, and his hand loosens. In an instant Dick as wiggled out of his grasp.

Dick spins and grabs Bruce’s arm, twisting it and forcing him down if he wants to keep his shoulder in his socket. It’s a move that Bruce had taught him a few months ago. Under other circumstances Bruce would be beaming with pride at Dick’s textbook display of technique. Now he can only force back a moan as Dick pushes further against his arm.

“Robin.” Bruce gasps, but Dick isn’t even looking at him. Instead he’s grinning proudly at Songbird, like a child showing off. This fight isn’t going the way Bruce had hoped, but he’ll be damned if he fails Dick again.

Quietly, while Dick is distracted, Bruce reaches into his utility belt. He has half a canister of Bat Knockout Gas. Bruce rolls, wrenching his arm out of Dick’s hands painfully and hops to his feet. He doesn’t give Dick enough time to register what’s happening before giving Dick a face full of knockout gas. Dick’s eyes close and his whole body sags forward. Bruce catches him and gently lowers him to the ground.

Bruce straightens. The smug look has been wiped off Songbird’s face.

“Get him!” He commands. The henchmen rush to comply. Bruce is angry, angrier than he’s ever been before. He’s always stressed to Dick the importance of approaching crime fighting not as a means of vengeance, but as a means of justice. Today, however, he’s having a difficult time following his own teachings. Every time he catches sight of his boys limp body the flames of rage only burn hotter. The henchmen go down and they don’t get back up.

As the last henchman falls Songbird seems to realize his predicament. He grabs his henchwoman and all but throws her at Bruce as he makes a mad dash towards the van. Bruce catches her, but Songbird has a head start.

Bruce grabs a baterang from his belt and hurls it. It hits its mark and the van’s back tire pops. Songbird slows to a halt as he stares at his useless getaway vehicle. He doesn’t struggle as Bruce grabs him and roughly forces him to his knees.

“How do I reverse what you did to Robin?” Bruce asks. His fingers tightening on Songbird’s shoulder. Songbird doesn’t answer. Impatience builds in Bruce’s chest and he gives Songbird a firm shake.

“I promise you that I will make every day of your life a living nightmare if you do not divulge to me the secret to curing Robin.” Bruce says harshly.

Slowly Songbird’s hand reaches into his pocket. Bruce tenses, ready for a weapon. Instead he pulls out a boxy remote.

“This can turn off his control collar.” Songbird says, “Too bad you’ll never use it.”

Before Bruce can react, Songbird smashes the remote against the ground. It cracks under the first hit and a second hit finishes the job.

“Oops,” A slight smile appears on Songbird’s lips, “Enjoy Robin Boy Criminal.”

“No!” Bruce scoops up the mangled remote, “You petty profligate! I won’t let you condemn Robin to a life of crime.”

“Good luck releasing him from the collar without that.” Songbird laughs. Bruce forces Songbird to his feet and drags him back to his unconscious henchmen. Songbird is still smirking victoriously. Bruce longs to punch the look off his mouth, but restrains himself. Dick needs a cool head now more than ever. He ties Songbird, the henchwoman, and the henchmen up and makes a quick call to Chief O’Hara about picking up Gotham Penitentiary’s newest additions.

He stands over Dick’s still form. He’s so small. And young. Bruce forgets that sometimes, in the face of the boy’s stunning maturity and intellect. He bends over and scoops him up. It’s easily to carry him back to the batmobile, though he’s growing by leaps and bounds every day. Soon, Bruce knows, there will come a time when he won’t be able to so easily pick him up and carry him away from danger. It’s a thought that makes Bruce cling a little tighter to the small body in his arms.

Bruce sets Dick down in the passenger seat and buckles him in, brushing the hair out of his face before taking his place in the driver’s seat. He speeds back to the batcave, struggling the whole time to keep his eyes on the road and not his son.

Inside, he carries Dick to a gurney. He hesitates a moment before tightening the straps around Dick’s arms, waist, and knees. He hates himself for it, but he can’t risk Dick escaping while still under Songbird’s control.

Next he feeds everything he knows about the collar, the remote, and songbird into the bat-computer. He stands on needles waiting for the results that will hopefully give him some clue on freeing Dick from that deranged devil’s clutches.

Lights blink and the computer beeps and buzzes as it gets to work. Dick begins to groan, tossing his head back and forth, as he claws his way back to consciousness.

Bruce pulls back his mask.

“Dick?” He asks softly.

“Songbird? Where’s Songbird?” Dick’s eyes are wild as they desperately roam around the batcave.

“What did you do to him?” He shouts, struggling fiercely in his bonds. Bruce looks away. He can taste bile on his tongue. Dick continues to seethe. Bruce grabs his canister of Bat Knockout Gas and spritzes it. He’s running low. He shouldn’t be wasting it. But he can’t bring himself to listen to Dick for even one second, as he rails against everything he had once held dear.

The bat computer spits out its results; schematics of the collar. Bruce studies them closely. If he can figure out how to build it, than he should be able to unbuild it just as easily. With a final glance at the still unconscious Dick, Bruce gets to work.

Bruce spends hours going over the collar and the plans. The dinner and glass of milk Alfred leaves for him go untouched. Bruce only stops long enough to deliver another spritz of knockout gas every time Dick begins to stir. 

When he’s done all the reviewing he could possibly do and feels confident that he knows th collar inside and out, Bruce grabs a screwdriver. Piece by piece he works to dismantle the collar, without triggering one of its many failsafes and destroying Dick’s mind forever.

Each piece must be removed in perfect order. Bruce’s hands stay steady as the pile of removed pieces grows ever larger. Dick occasionally twitches in his sleep. Bruce takes that as a good sign that even in his sleep Dick is continuing to fight for his own mind.

Finally, the last essential piece pops out of place. Bruce hears a snap as the collar unlatches itself. Gently Bruce pulls the offending device away from Dick’s neck. Dick doesn’t stir, still deep under the effects of the knockout gas. Now there’s nothing more for Bruce to do but wait for him to wake up. He takes a seat and watches his young ward fondly, trying to work out what he wants to say to him when he wakes up.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief epilogue

Dick awakens to a pounding headache and a ringing in his ears. He blinks, but even the dim light of the batcave is too bright, and he turns his head with a groan.

“Robin, Dick?” An urgent voice forces Dick to open his eyes again. Bruce, looking more haggard that Dick had ever seen him, stands next to his makeshift bed. His cowl is pulled down and Dick can see the bags under his eyes.

“Bruce?” Dick is about to ask what’s going on when the events of the past few days come flooding back to him. Dick sits up, wincing as his body protests the sudden movement.

“Bruce are you alright?” Now that he looks closer he can see the stiff way Bruce is holding his arm. Dick feels sick. He did that. He remembers the feel of Bruce’s arm as he did his best to wrench it out of its socket. He wants to apologize but the word get caught in his throat, gagging him.

“Dick, breathe!” Bruce commands, placing a hand on Dick’s back as he hunches over struggling for air. Under Bruce’s calming presence Dick feels his lungs open and he takes a few deep breathes.

“I’m sorry.” Dick says quietly. He keeps his head down. He doesn’t want to see the disappointment in Bruce’s eyes. How could Dick have messed up so badly?

“What are you apologizing for?” Bruce asks. His voice is neutral, but Dick flinches anyway. He stares at his own knees.

“I hurt you.” He mutters, “I’m sorry.”

He feels a hand under his chin, gently nudging his face up until he can avoid looking at Bruce no longer. There’s no disappointment or blame anywhere on Bruce’s face. His eyes shine with nothing but affection and concern. That hurts so much worse.

“This wasn’t your fault. Songbird alone is responsible for everything that happened.” Bruce says, and he speaks with such conviction that Dick almost believes him.

“I could have killed you!” Dick snaps.

“I wouldn’t have let that happen.” Bruce says resting his hands on Dick’s shoulders. Dick has to fight not to lean into his grasp.

“You didn’t even fight back the first time! You just let me keep hitting you!” Dick says. He feels tears splash down his cheeks. Shame and embarrassment burn in his chest.

“I couldn’t risk hurting you,” Bruce says, his tone taking on an edge, like he’s desperate for Dick to understand.

“You should have! I deserved it.” Dick snaps. Suddenly he’s pressed against Bruce’s chest, engulfed in the tightest hug he’s ever been in. He stiffens, refusing to allow himself the comfort of sinking into it. He doesn’t deserve it. Not after all the trouble he’s caused.

“Listen to me,” Bruce says firmly, not loosening his grip on Dick in the slightest, “You didn’t deserve anything that happened to you. What Songbird did to you was unforgivable and you are in no way to blame for his actions. Do you understand?”

Dick wants to nod, but he can’t bring himself to.

“What if you had died?” He asks softly.

“Death is a risk I accepted when I took up the mantle of Batman, and if I had died it would have been Songbird’s fault. Not yours.” Bruce says. He speaks with such authority that almost against his will Dick finds himself believing him. Dick leans into the hug, his arms coming up to wrap themselves around Bruce.

“I tried to stop myself,” Dick admits, his words muffled by Bruce’s shoulder, “I wasn’t strong enough.”

Bruce pulls away to look him in the eyes. Dick mourns the end of the hug.

“I saw you fighting it every step,” Bruce says, “Don’t come away from this experience thinking your weak. I went over the schematics for the collar. It was a brutal device that subverted the wearers control via the auditory processing portion of the brain. Nobody could overcome it. The fact that you resisted as much as you did is astounding.”

Bruce pulls him back into a hug, one hand coming up to bury itself in Dick’s hair.

“I am so proud of you.”

Dick feels his face heat up all the way to the tips of his ears. Praise from Bruce was a rare and precious gift. Unable to find any words, Dick returns the hug as tightly as he can. Bruce chuckles and the last of the shame hiding in Dick’s chest fades away. They are going to be ok. The Dynamic Duo would fight again another day.

Bruce pulls away, keeping his hands on Dick’s shoulder, “Come on Old Chum, I told Aunt Harriet that you were spending the past few nights with friends, but I think she’s starting to get suspicious.”

“Gosh, I hope we didn’t worry her too much,” Dick says hopping off the gurney. They head to the batpoles and with a flip of a switch complete their transformation into Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson.

Aunt Harriet is sitting on the couch sipping tea and fretting as Dick and Bruce walk in.

“Oh there you are Dick,” Aunt Harriet says standing up. She looks her nephew over with a sharp eye, “Did you have fun with your friends?”

“Sure did Aunt Harriet.” Dick says and gives her a shaky grin.

“Oh I’m so glad. Between your schoolwork and all you extracurricular I think it’s good for you to get out and relax with friends.” She says patting his cheek. Dick hums noncommittally. 

“Anyway, I was out shopping the other night and something caught my eye and I just couldn’t help myself.” Aunt Harriet says, “and with your birthday coming up soon, I thought why not?”

She hands him a red and yellow striped bag. He opens it and pulls out a book. He feels his smile falter as he reads he title _The Many Songbirds of North America._

“You and Bruce have been doing so much bird watching recently,” Aunt Harriet continues oblivious to Dick’s frown, “and it’s educational.”

Dick slaps a smile on his face as Aunt Harriet looks up.

“Do you like it?” She asks and Dick can’t bear disappointing her.

“Yeah, I love it. Thank you.” He leans over and kisses her cheek. Silently already deciding that the book will end up on the bottom shelf buried beneath half a dozen other books at minimum. Aunt Harrient beams at him. Bruce lays a hand on his shoulder and Dick finds his smile becoming slightly more genuine. He looks back down at the book. Surrounded by the warmth of family, he decides it’s not the worst present he’s ever been given. Perhaps he and Bruce will get some use out of the book after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all for now folks! I had a blast writing this. The 66 universe is such a fun Batman world to play in. Let me know if you'd like to hear more stories of 66 Batman and Robin!


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